


His Hands Matched His Tongue

by spacemonkey



Category: U2
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hair Washing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4248594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemonkey/pseuds/spacemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bono is having trouble after dislocating his shoulder. Set during the Joshua Tree era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Hands Matched His Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by kronhjorten on tumblr who suggested I write something to do with hair during the JT era, or something to do with Bono's dislocated shoulder. I decided to combine it. Very unbetaed. Title comes from a band called The Dear Hunter. I felt like it was fitting

It had been six hours at most since Ali had left for Dublin, and Bono had spiralled downward quicker than Edge had ever seen him. He’d been sullen on the flight to Philadelphia, and now he was shuffling from room to room as if he was looking for a reason to go on. Edge just continued to watch the television. He’d tried to reason, on the plane, that Ali did have her own life to lead, but it had been met with stormy silence. He wasn’t even going to suggest they enjoy their day off and go out, so once they had landed, Edge had quietly set up camp in Bono’s hotel room to make sure he didn’t fall over and do the other arm in. Bono really hadn’t questioned it, so Edge just continued to flick through the channels.

The couch dipped next to him, and Bono settled back with a grimace. He adjusted his sling and sighed and Edge felt for him. “Have you taken your painkillers?”

He half expected an angry explosion, but instead Bono just sighed again and rubbed at his face with his one good hand. “Yeah.”

“Are they helping?”

“I fucking hope so. Still hurts like hell.”

Edge nodded. There wasn’t much more he could do, and it made him feel pretty useless. “It’ll get better. It already is better than what it was, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“Mmm.”

Edge turned back to the television. An old black and white movie was on and he didn’t recognize any of the actors, but it reminded him of his childhood, the family gathered around the television before bedtime. He tried to follow the story, but Bono was restless beside him and eventually he just gave up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bono muttered. Edge knew Bono, and knew that when he said nothing, truly he meant everything and he never had to wait long to find out the specifics. He turned back to the television, and soon enough, Bono exhaled loudly. “Ali was going to wash my hair.”

Edge nearly laughed, managed to hold back just in time. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Is that all?”

Bono gave him a _look_. “I can’t do it on my own, Edge! She was going to do it this morning, but I guess we both forgot.”

Bono forgetting something didn’t really surprise Edge in the slightest. Ali forgetting something was more unusual. Bono’s hair was hanging loose around his face, and Edge could see the problem upon looking closer. “We could probably do a fry up with the amount of oil on your head right now,” he said. Bono shoved him, but there was a smile there and Edge felt like that was something, at least.

***

Bono was watching him with a curious eye, the phone cradled between his right ear and shoulder, and Edge smiled and continued dragging the dining chair towards the bathroom. He sat it in front of the sink and sat down in it to test the height, then stood back up.

“Are you planning to eat in here, The Edge? Adam thought we might go out to eat instead.”

Edge looked up to find Bono standing in the doorway, a bemused look on his face. “No, Bono.”

“No to going out or no to eating in the bathroom?”

“We can go out, if you want. After.”

“What’s coming before?” Bono crossed the threshold, a small smile on his face that told Edge he knew what was coming. Edge turned the chair to the side so the back wasn’t in the way and then patted the seat. Bono sat down, the smile growing wider. “What are you up to, Edge?”

“What time did Adam want to go out?” Edge took an unused white towel from the rack and carefully draped it over Bono’s shoulders.

“Oh, we have plenty of time. Are you going to shave me as well?”

“Do you trust me around your jugular?”

“Yes.”

Edge had to smile. Bono had said it with such conviction, like it would be a privilege if Edge accidentally slit his throat. “Not today. Where’s your shampoo?”

“I don’t know.”

Edge wasn’t surprised in the least. He left the room and headed for Bono’s bedroom, finding his suitcase unopened in the corner. He opened it and rummaged through till he found what he was looking for, and as an afterthought, he brought Bono’s brush, toothbrush and toothpaste with him as well.

Bono was leaning back against the sink with his eyes closed, but he blinked when Edge re-entered the room. “Going to brush my teeth for me too, Edge?”

“You’re less likely to forget tonight if they’re in here. Oral hygiene is very important, Bono.” Bono just laughed. Edge set everything down on the counter, then took off his watch. He grabbed another towel and moved it closer to Bono, then set the shampoo within arm’s reach. “Alright, ready?”

“This probably would have been easier if I were in the bath, you know.”

“That’s true.” Edge turned on both the hot and cold tap and started to fiddle to find the right temperature. “But then you would have been naked.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“It’s a distraction.”

“Not if you’re naked too.”

Edge shook his head and laughed and ran his hand under the water to check. “Alright, lean back. But carefully.” Bono rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Edge watched him for a moment, watched the water running over his hair and ears and smiled when Bono closed his eyes. “Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Not too hot? Are you comfortable?”

“Edge, I’m fine.”

Edge bit back a laugh and started to smooth his hands over Bono’s hair, making sure everything was nice and wet, and then he reached for the shampoo. “Lean forward a bit.” He left the water running, not wanting to have to play with the temperature a second time, and waited till Bono was far enough away from the water before uncapping and squirting a small amount into his palm. He rubbed his hands together quickly, and then started to run them through Bono’s hair. Bono’s eyes fluttered shut and Edge grinned and started to rub all the more harder. “Does that feel alright?”

“Mmm.”

“I didn’t grab the conditioner.”

“Don’t give a shit,” Bono muttered. And then he sighed and Edge stopped moving, his hands still tangled in Bono’s wet strands. He stared at Bono, his head tilted back exposing his neck and his hair a soapy mess and he couldn’t help it; he leaned forward and softly pressed his lips against Bono's. Bono huffed out a laugh, his breath ghosting against Edge’s mouth. “Enjoying this?”

“Yes,” Edge said bluntly. He thought about kissing Bono again, but Bono’s hair was beginning to drip. “Back under the water.”

Bono sniffed, but he leaned back under the stream. “You sure know how to ruin a moment.” Edge just shrugged, his fingers gently scrubbing at Bono’s scalp. He could feel Bono’s eyes on him and ignored it, concentrating on getting out all the shampoo. “Feels good, Edge.”

“I’m glad.”

“Feels really good.”

“I’m really glad.” Edge shut off the water, gathered Bono’s hair in his hands, and squeezed as much excess water out as he could. He guided Bono to sit up straight, then grabbed the spare towel and draped it over Bono’s head. He began to lightly rub at Bono’s hair, and Bono’s right hand came up and grabbed him by the arse. “What are you doing?”

“I saw an opportunity and I decided to take it.”

“Hmm.” Edge gave his hair one last swipe and then tossed the towel into the bath. He glanced down at Bono and grinned. Bono’s hair was a damp mess, parts of it flattened, other parts sticking out in all different directions, but his face said only one thing and his hand was still on Edge’s arse. “Do you want something?”

“You know what I want.”

“Do you think you’re up to it?”

“Yes.”

Edge considered this. He stepped back, away from Bono’s prying hand, and dried his hands on the hand towel. “Did the doctor say it was okay?”

Bono let out a frustrated groan. “I’m not made of fucking glass, Edge! It’s fine!”

“Don’t we have dinner plans?”

“There’s plenty of time.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

Bono blinked. A sly grin appeared on his face and he stood up; the towel fell from his chest and he stepped over it till he was near flush against Edge. He brought a hand up, cupped Edge’s chin and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “I’ll call Adam and cancel.”

“Okay.” Bono stepped past him and towards the door, and Edge wanted him to make that phone call quickly, wanted to lay him down in bed and touch him until he cried out. He wanted it badly, but he couldn’t help himself. “Bono?” He turned to find Bono looking at him impatiently from the doorway and he felt like an idiot. “Your hair, I need to brush it.”

Bono stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head and headed to sit back down in his chair. “You mystify me, Edge,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

 


End file.
